


O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

by thegreatpumpkin



Series: I teach thee how [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest, what happens when crackfic gets away from you and turns serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:39:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/thegreatpumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like any younger sister, Arwen was adept at reading their guilty consciences. “What did you two <em>do</em> to Cirdan’s messenger? This morning he was so smitten I thought he was going to proposition Elrohir in front of everyone, and now he’s looking at you both like you put an arrow through his horse.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this follows on from [Suggestive in movement, sight and sound](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3120644), though it is NOT canon for that universe, more of a wacky outtake that gained a life of its own. It can probably stand alone, but it does make references to some of the history and characterizations in that fic.
> 
> I was stuck on SIMSS and complaining about it to [June](http://archiveofourown.org/users/liveoakwithmoss), who jokingly suggested an OC named Gustav Sebastianion. Then I ran way too far with it, and this is the result.
> 
>  **ETA OF EXCITEMENT:** NOW WITH AWESOME (AND NSFW) ART BY [MJ](http://snartha.tumblr.com)!!

“Gustav. _Guuu-_ stav. Se-bast... Sebastinananion.” Elladan stumbled through the syllables, overpronouncing them like he was chewing gristle. “What kind of name _is_ that, anyway?”

Elrohir was attempting to take the high road. “Se-BAS-tian-ion, surely. I’ve never heard anything like it. He’s obviously full-elven, but Cirdan’s folk do trade with a variety of people. Maybe it’s a Mannish name?”

Elladan had never met a low road he didn’t like. “Sounds more like Khuzdul. Maybe his mother has fond reminiscences of a Dwarf she once met—”

“ _Elladan_!” Elrohir shot for reprimanding, but landed on scandalized delight instead.

“One mad night of passion in Moria—she moved on, she married, but she never forgot. And when her only son was born, she thought it a fitting remembrance—”

Elrohir was laughing helplessly, and trying not to, which only made it worse. Elladan, hopelessly charmed by that laugh, kept going.

“My dear, departed Gustav. Coarse was his beard! Stout was his figure! His hands, like two slabs of meat, were nevertheless gentle as they—”

“My lords,” said Gustav Sebastianion coldly, as they rounded the corner and nearly plowed into him. “How nice to see you.”

~

They apologized, of course, as much as Gustav would allow before stalking off. Their written apology (penned by Elrohir, because Elladan would have only made things worse) was tucked away unread as soon as they pressed it into his hands, and if he glanced at it later then he must not have been impressed. He declined their request to speak privately, and subsequently their remorseful invitation to join them for supper; normally it would have been quite rude to refuse so many friendly overtures from the sons of the house, but they couldn’t pretend they hadn’t given him ample grounds.

Whatever message he had brought from Cirdan had apparently needed a thoughtful reply. Before their faux-pas, Elrond had invited Gustav to make himself at home while the matter was discussed. It was not a whole-council matter, it seemed, but Elrond and Erestor had been closeted in conversation all day and when they emerged for supper it was not with a readied response. Their guest was here for the night, then.

It was only going to be a matter of time before Elrond found out about the incident. He might know already. Elladan and Elrohir went down to dinner like guilty children, their steps slowing as they drew closer to the Hall, putting off the inevitable.

Arwen popped up between them when they stepped through the doors, startling them both as she hooked an arm through each of theirs. Like any younger sister, she was adept at reading their guilty consciences. “What did you two _do_ to Cirdan’s messenger? This morning he was so smitten I thought he was going to proposition Elrohir in front of everyone, and now he’s looking at you both like you put an arrow through his horse.”

“He was _what?_ ” Elrohir said, at the same time Elladan was saying, “It was just a little misunderstanding—”

Arwen was also adept at keeping track when both her brothers spoke at once, which they had an unfortunate tendency towards. “I doubt _that_ ,” she said first to Elladan, “I bet you were making fun of his name.” And then, to Elrohir— “Smitten. Infatuated. Beguiled. Shall I go on? It’s too bad you burned that bridge, I think he’s quite handsome.” She wasn’t wrong. “Although maybe it’s for the best. I think he would have been happy with whichever one of you said yes first, and you do hate when people think you’re interchangeable.”

Their eyes met over her head. Attractive, interested in both of them, and with unexpected time to kill—Arwen was more right than she knew to call it a shame. It was occurring to them now what an ideal target he might have been for this...plan of theirs. Especially given that if it didn’t go precisely as hoped, it hardly mattered, since he’d be leaving Imladris by tomorrow.

_Valar damn it, Elladan. You had to go on about the poor man’s mother._

Elladan stuck out his tongue. _Don’t put this all on my shoulders. You encouraged me!_

Arwen towed them both towards the table. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re talking. Excluding someone from the conversation is rude. If you want to speak privately, _speak in private_.” She smiled sweetly and added, just before they entered Elrond’s hearing range, “Although you _should_ probably figure out how to make amends before Ada finds out, and I think the sand is running out on that hourglass. He’ll be livid if he finds out you’re offending official messengers for no good reason.”

“Mind your own affairs,” Elladan muttered, as she let them loose and settled into her own chair. She was right again, though; they would need to intercept Gustav as soon as the meal was over and solve this somehow.

~

Flanking could be as effective a tactic in diplomacy as in warfare, sometimes; when they approached the messenger after supper, they came up on either side of him and guided him into a slightly less public corridor, making it difficult to break away without causing a scene. It was a gamble, though, since they were not entirely sure he was _unwilling_ to cause a scene.

He did not immediately storm off, but by his expression it was not entirely off the table. He spoke before they could.

“I understand, my lords,” Gustav said shortly, his mouth tight, “that you have offered your apologies. I am in fact fluent in Sindarin, whatever your speculations about my background, so I assure you that you do not need to repeat yourselves. Perhaps _you_ do not understand that apologies offered can in fact be rejected.”

“Of course,” Elrohir said, pitching his voice quiet and understanding. “That is your right. We were very out of line, and I completely understand if you cannot forgive the slight. We only wanted to say, if there is _anything_ we may do to offset the harm we have caused, you need only ask.”

 _Did you really just offer an unspecified favor to a man with a grudge?_ Elladan was incredulous. _I didn’t agree to that!_

 _Did you have a better idea?_ Elrohir snapped back. _No? Then hush._

Gustav’s tone was acerbic. “I suspect for two sheltered, snobbish lordlings the definition of ’anything’ is less broad than for the rest of us.”

Elladan stiffened, starting to open his mouth on an angry retort, but Elrohir gave him a hard look and he bit it back.

“I admit, we cannot offer your our lives or limbs in recompense, but anything within reason, at least.” Elrohir smiled coaxingly. “I think you will find we are _very_ reasonable, though we made a poor first impression.”

Gustav remained unconvinced. “You think you are above everyone, because of the titles you bear. Your father earned his place with hard work and much loss, and still he is gracious to everyone from lords to paupers. What have you done, besides gossip and jeer?”

Elrohir had to check Elladan again before he responded to the jibe, but he was struck with sudden inspiration. “Would an apology mean more if it were delivered on our knees?” He let the implication hang in the air for a moment, pretending to be unaware of it. “We can humble ourselves, if it would please you. You’re right—we’re no better than anyone else. Worse, really, for showing you such disrespect.”

Gustav’s sneer relaxed a little, though it would not have been obvious to anyone who wasn’t watching for it. “If you realized what you were offering, peredhel, you would regret offering it.”

It was a good thing he was looking at Elrohir, because Elladan’s face was slack with shock. _Did you just trick him into—_

 _Don’t build the kennel before the hounds are whelped,_ Elrohir said, then blinked sweetly at Gustav, doing a very good impression of someone who had never understood a double entendre in his life. “We are less proud than you might think.”

Elrohir’s reserve was unnecessary; Gustav took the bait. “I’d like to see how proud you are begging beneath me, lordling.”

Elrohir’s eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in surprise; Elladan _knew_ better and he was still nearly convinced. Gustav looked smug at the reaction, enjoying having shocked him. Elrohir hesitated, glancing at Elladan—who quickly schooled his face to something approximating reluctance—then back. “You mean… _oh_. I see. I’ve never,” Elrohir said uncertainly, then fumbled for words, playing the part to the fullest. “With a man, I mean. Elladan, have you…?”

Elladan shook his head. It wasn’t a lie, after all. “But if that is how we must make amends…” he said slowly, more to Elrohir than to Gustav.

Elrohir nodded at him, then squared his shoulders, as if facing a difficult task. “We accept.”

It was the messenger’s turn to look hesitant now. He clearly had expected outright refusal—had meant more to offend them than to make a genuine request. “You— _accept?_ ”

“Provided you don’t mind taking it somewhere more private,” Elrohir said earnestly. “We must of course balance our sincere desire to make things right against the danger of scandalizing any of the House’s other visitors.” Elladan bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep an appropriately serious expression.

Gustav stared. Then, suddenly, his expression changed; keener, but more appreciative. “That was a fine performance, the wide-eyed virgin. You oversold it a bit at the end, though. I’m curious—would you have seen it through?”

Elrohir, to his credit, did not miss a beat, smiling his real smile. “Thank you. Why shouldn’t I see it through? I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. We _are_ eager to set things right, and if that can be done in the bedchamber, so much the better.” Elladan felt like he couldn’t keep up, and stopped trying.

Gustav scowled. “I ought to send you packing, you impudent pup. First you insult me, then you try to manipulate me.”

“Pup! We are nearly the same age—” Elladan started indignantly, but Elrohir hushed him before he could work up any momentum. _Your mouth is what got us into this in the first place. Let me do the talking._

“You won’t, I think,” Elrohir said to Gustav. “It’s not an opportunity you get very often, identical twins. And besides, you’re still dying to teach us a lesson.”

He wasn’t wrong about that either. Gustav folded his arms, leaning in just a little too close, a show of interest and dominance at once. Elrohir allowed it. “Never with a man, you said. Either of you? That seems unlikely.”

“It is, nevertheless, true.” Elrohir glanced again at Elladan for confirmation—Gustav did not need to know how intimately aware they were of one another’s sexual histories—and his brother nodded. “Is that a problem?”

Gustav snorted. “I’ve heard bawdy ballads with more believable premises than this.”

Elladan finally felt he could contribute something to the conversation. “Like the one about the shieldmaiden and her squire? I always thought that one had a kernel of truth to it.” He grinned. “Or were you thinking more along the lines of the traveling merchant and the lord’s son? That one has a great line in the fifth verse, I’ve always wanted to try—”

“I’m familiar with it,” Gustav said quickly, and to Elladan’s delight his ears had gone faintly pink, though his expression was as sharp as before. “Fine. Where, precisely, were you imagining _The Lay of the Lordlings and Courier_ to play out, then?”

“You’ve been given a room, no doubt?” Elladan asked, before Elrohir could do something overly-obliging like inviting him back to one of _their_ quarters.

 _I wasn’t going to!_ Elrohir protested. Then, conscientiously— _although there is some advantage to owning the field of play._

“I have been, though I suspect it lacks some of the amenities granted to the lord’s sons,” Gustav said pointedly.

“It also lacks the proximity to our father and sister’s quarters, which I think we can all agree is the luxury most relevant to the conversation.” Elrohir’s tone made it clear the matter was settled; Gustav shrugged and gave way.

Who could blame him? There were worse ways to spend an evening, and they all knew it.

~

Gustav was not a patient teacher—no surprise there—but Elrohir was a fast learner, and seemingly immune to Gustav’s disdain. Elladan, on the other hand—who could not _bear_ being disliked—was finding the whole situation immensely challenging.

Especially Gustav’s commentary. “Oh, honestly, it _cannot_ be this difficult. Tighten your lips. And use your tongue, for Eru’s sake. You knew how to wag it well enough earlier.”

Elladan seethed, though he did his best to take direction, and to ignore the snort of amusement Elrohir couldn’t quite suppress. This was not what he had imagined when they’d made their plan. It was all wrong, and worse still, Elrohir did not appear to agree. He seemed perfectly pleased with the whole thing.

The only benefit to Gustav’s dispassionate manner was that, unlike Elladan’s previous would-be partners, he did not bother with more touching than was necessary. He leaned back against the windowsill, his elbows resting on the ledge and his hands curled at the edge of it, and let them do their work. It was a relief for Elladan to have control over where, and how, they touched. He thought if Gustav had tried to hold his head, even gently, he would have had to give up on the whole affair, diplomacy be damned.

As Elladan was schooled on the rudimentary points of cocksucking, Elrohir had set upon a course of independent study; which was to say, he was cheerfully applying lips and tongue to any part of Gustav that seemed likely to produce a positive reaction. At the moment he had nudged Elladan slightly to the side and had one of Gustav’s balls in his mouth, rolling his tongue gently along the skin. He gave every impression of enjoying himself; Elladan, irritated, resolved to show him up somehow, and made a little more effort to please.

“There,” Gustav hissed, when he began to get the hang of things at last. “Finally. Keep that up and you might not be a total loss.”

Elladan, unable to help himself, growled; to his surprise Gustav gasped, then laughed, a little nastily. “Keep that temper in check, lordling. You’ll be very sorry indeed if I feel teeth. But you can _growl_ at me if you like. In fact, please do.” He drew a long breath, a smirk curving his lips, as Elladan rumbled an irritated, wordless response; then his attention went back to Elrohir. “As for you...not bad. But make yourself useful and strip him the rest of the way. Don’t throw him off, he’s only just managed to be passable at this.”

Elrohir laughed wickedly, and Elladan’s irritation burned higher, like a steadily fed fire. _Don’t fret, it’s just his way of keeping control_ , Elrohir said soothingly. _If he wasn’t enjoying it he’d have us switch._

Elladan ignored him pointedly. _Don’t be like that_ , Elrohir wheedled, taking his time as he began undressing Elladan, trying to coax him into a better temper with lingering touches. _I promise you, this will be fun_. He made a show of it for Gustav’s benefit, taking his time, but it was also the perfect excuse to smooth his hands along Elladan’s chest, over his ribs and shoulders and arms as he eased the tunic over his head. He gentled his brother like a fitful horse, and to Elladan’s annoyance, it worked surprisingly well. By the time Elrohir had his breeches unlaced and was orchestrating the careful dance that would get him out of them without interrupting anything, Elladan had begun to burn for a different reason.

He wasn’t the only one. Gustav, he was pleased to note, was finding his apology more satisfactory by the minute. He had not made any other rude remarks since the ’passable’ comment, only occasional murmured encouragements— _yes, there,_ and _do that a little harder_ , and the like. Elladan’s jaw was beginning to ache, unused as he was to stretching his mouth so wide for such a long period, but he continued doggedly, even taking Gustav a little deeper than he had dared before, fighting the urge to gag.

“Now yourself,” Gustav told Elrohir, somehow managing to sound annoyed even half out of breath from pleasure. “Clothing off.” Elladan couldn’t see his brother from this vantage point, but even so, he knew exactly how he would smile in response to that command—and imagining that smile aimed at someone else made his skin prickle all over with jealousy.

 _Easy, now_ , Elrohir said, almost before he’d identified the feeling himself. _You know I wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t with me. I thought you liked the idea of watching me with someone else?_

He had, but at that point _someone else_ had been a vague hypothetical idea of a person, probably a friendly acquaintance—not the reality of a sharp-tongued stranger who made Elrohir laugh every time he criticized Elladan. Elladan managed to clamp down on that thought before it bled across. _Sorry_ , he said instead, though he wasn’t.

 _If it helps—_ Elrohir broke off, quiet for a long moment before deciding to continue. _I’m imagining what it would be like to touch you like this._ He tossed his tunic aside, then stepped out of his breeches before moving back to Gustav. He was half-hard, which was theoretically a good sign, given his history of—well. A better sign, to Elladan’s mind, was how he waited to make sure Elladan was watching before he leaned in and pressed his mouth to Gustav’s throat, sucking at the skin before biting down gently. _What it would be like to taste you._

Gustav groaned softly as Elrohir’s mouth moved along his neck, and it was as if he spoke with Elladan’s voice. Elladan, feverish and eager, suddenly realized that it wasn’t only Elrohir who could pretend. If he thought of doing this to Elrohir instead of Gustav—oh, he was suddenly a thousand times more eager to get it right, if not necessarily a thousand times more capable. Gustav’s head thudded softly back against the windowpane, the sound muffled by the curtain between him and the glass. “Where was this enthusiasm earlier?” he panted out in Elladan’s general direction, and his grin showed teeth. “Apparently you’re like a kettle. You take your time warming up, but now that you’re boiling—”

“ _Enough_ ,” said Elrohir, and kissed him in a way that was all teeth and force. Elladan realized it was for his benefit, interrupting whatever scathing thing Gustav was working up to, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to give Elrohir whatever he asked for. Since that was, at the moment, cooperation with this scheme, Elladan kept his mouth busy.

He could almost enjoy it, he had to admit. Even when Gustav _did_ lay a hand against the back of his head, he was not overly disturbed. He could feel how Gustav wanted to thrust, his muscles tensing and releasing; how he restrained himself. Despite the ache in his jaw, despite the hard floor beneath his knees, despite the unpleasantness of everything leading up to this moment—Elladan was beginning to see what Elrohir meant. There was some smug satisfaction in making Gustav react, and he _was_ very attractive, when he wasn’t talking. And with Elrohir here to keep an edge on his own desire...Elladan had to concede that this could, genuinely, turn out to be fun.

He supposed Gustav was warming up too, in a way. Even when Elrohir allowed him to catch his breath, he didn’t continue his mockery. Instead, he wrapped both arms around Elrohir and drew him into another long kiss, less teeth and more tongue, though there was no tenderness in it. (Elladan liked to think it would have been tender, if he had been in Gustav’s place, but never mind.)

Elrohir, by contrast, was growing sharper. He indulged for awhile in the kisses; but when Gustav leaned forward, trying to press him closer, he shoved him back against the curtains again. “ _Wait_ ,” he growled, and to Elladan’s surprise, Gustav did not protest. Instead, he watched hazily as Elrohir kissed and nipped his way back down his body, until he knelt again beside his brother.

Elrohir nudged Elladan’s shoulder gently until Elladan drew back, letting Gustav’s cock slide from between his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Elrohir leaned in and beckoned Elladan to do the same; then curled his open lips around half of Gustav’s cock head as Elrohir mirrored him on the other side. It was almost a kiss, and the roaring in Elladan’s ears nearly drowned out Gustav’s choked noise at the picture they made.

 _Tongue_ , Elrohir prompted, his own sliding along the underside until the tip brushed Elladan’s bottom lip. Elladan met him there, and Gustav shuddered as their tongues briefly twined. A kiss, and not a kiss; somehow made _safer_ by having a cock between them—Elladan would have laughed at the absurdity of it, if there had been any blood left in his brain to consider the notion.

Gustav was watching them as if he had entirely forgotten his anger, his gaze hungry and helpless. The soft, desperate whine that escaped him as Elrohir began mouthing sloppy, wet kisses up his shaft and Elladan hurried to keep up on the other side was nothing like his restrained noises of earlier. And when he panted out, “ _Stop_ ,” it was no longer an order; it was a plea.

Elrohir drew away, but Elladan was certain he was not imagining the reluctance with which he did so. A quick glance downward confirmed it—Elrohir did not seem to be struggling at _all_ with desire now. Gustav, above them, closed his eyes a moment, one hand clutching the window ledge as he caught his breath. When he opened them again, he asked, his voice rough with desire— “How far are you willing to take this?”

“As far as you’ll let us,” Elrohir murmured back, with a grin like a lynx, predatory and calculating.

Gustav’s tongue might have grown less sharp, but the same was not true of his wits. He gave them each a long look, then smiled in a way that Elladan did not like at all. “Then you won’t protest,” he said, and he was clearly addressing Elrohir though his eyes were on Elladan, “if I fuck your brother first.”

They both managed not to react outwardly, though Elrohir’s internal _No!_ had something like concussive force. Elladan found himself surprised and pleased at that. Of course he himself was opposed—that was _far_ too much contact for his comfort—but Elrohir’s sudden protective possessiveness was unexpected and deeply gratifying. After a silence that went slightly too long, Elrohir said, “I can’t speak for my brother.”

Elladan considered. He could refuse; Gustav was testing them, obviously, but given the state he was in it was unlikely to be a dealbreaker. Then again, he might return to his previous unpleasantness, and Elladan had just been starting to enjoy himself. He decided, on the balance, to make a game of it.

He looked up at Gustav through his lashes, smiling in the way that Elrohir had smiled earlier, and was a little smug to feel Elrohir’s displeasure ratchet up another notch. “Do you know my name?”

 _What are you doing_? He ignored Elrohir’s query, sitting back on his heels, resting hands on his thighs as he gazed up calmly at Gustav.

Gustav’s mouth quirked. “Is that relevant?”

Elladan smiled wider. “If you don’t know us apart, it hardly matters which of us you fuck in what order.” The way he delivered the words, they were a tease, not a criticism; in fact, they were very nearly an invitation.

Gustav was willing to play. He even smiled back, and there was less ill intent there than before, though it hadn’t lost its edge entirely. “You’re right that I don’t know which name is yours. But I know you for the one who put the both of you in this mess, however unwisely your brother might have laughed.”

It was a clever move. They both watched him with sharpened interest now; after all, he had not actually _seen_ them mocking him, so he could not have simply matched them up by their clothing later. Somehow he had worked out—or at least made an educated guess—which of them was which.

“Are you certain?” Elladan said, rising slowly, leaning in until they were very close without _quite_ being in contact.

Gustav watched him come nearer with faint amusement, letting him hover without touching, but turning his head slightly to take advantage of their proximity. “Entirely,” he murmured against Elladan’s ear. Then, away from it and loudly enough for Elrohir to hear as well: “You rely too much on your looks, lordlings, in more ways than one. You count on being indistinguishable from one another when it suits you, but I don’t think you actually have much practice at it. Matching faces is not enough, if someone actually cares to tease out the difference.”

Elladan put his hands on the windowsill to either side of Gustav’s body, bracketing him in a way that affected them both, if the increasing pace of his heartbeat and the sudden shallowness of Gustav’s breathing were any indication. Still, they did not touch. “And you intend to,” he paused in the most predictable place possible, “ _tease_ it out, do you?”

Elrohir’s vexation had eased somewhat when he’d understood what Elladan was up to. Now he watched the exchange with what felt to Elladan like rapt interest. The dynamic had shifted; they all felt it.

“I think I already have.” Gustav lifted a hand, ever so slowly; Elladan followed its progress with his eyes. When he reached towards Elladan, it was careful; but not like offering food to a wild thing, easily frightened. More like reaching out to a dog after it had bitten in self-defense; knowing the danger, but trusting its good nature when properly treated. Elladan stayed still and let him.

When he made contact, it was only with fingertips, laid lightly against the pulse point beneath Elladan’s jaw. All three of them were still for a moment. Elladan swallowed, making Gustav’s fingers jump lightly where they rested, and the tension in him slowly ebbed to a more manageable level. He did not necessarily want to seek it out, but he found he did not mind the touch; he might even be able to bear more, if it came to it, without wanting to crawl out of his skin.

“Tell you what,” Gustav said, and his voice was noticeably warmer. “Give me your names, and I’ll give you the story behind mine.”

Elladan let out a breath, relaxing still further. “Elladan. I’m Elladan, and my brother is Elrohir.”

“Elladan,” Gustav repeated, trailing two fingers down to his breastbone, then glancing over to the other brother. “Elrohir. Good to know. I won’t say well met, untrue as it would be, but that will do for a fresh start.”

“We really are sorry,” Elladan murmured. Then, knowing it meant more— “ _I_ am sorry.”

Gustav traced the lines of him, still using only the two fingers, his touches idle. “I believe you. Brace yourself, you’ll be sorrier still in a moment.”

Elrohir rolled to his feet and moved himself to a chair nearby to listen, his new perch far more comfortable than the floor (and with a better view). Elladan stayed where he was, still and—well, _mostly_ calm under Gustav’s controlled touch.

Gustav’s smile was wry, but kinder than before. “As it happens, it _is_ Khuzdul, and my mother _did_ have fond remembrances of a dwarf. The truth is rather more wholesome than your version, though.” He twisted his wrist in a sudden motion, using his thumb instead of the two fingers to follow the shell of Elladan’s ear; Elladan suppressed a shiver and kept his breathing even. “My parents were part of Lindon’s host during the Last Alliance. On the march they grew close with many of the warriors of Hadhodrond—that’s Moria, now—and made particular friends with Gustav, son of Ginnar. When my father nearly died at Dagorlad, it was Gustav who managed to carry him back to where a healer could get to him.”

Elladan dropped his eyes, a little shamefaced. Gustav made a soft sound that was not quite a laugh, fingers now trailing circles over the back of Elladan’s shoulder. “It gets worse, I’m afraid. I was conceived during the siege of Barad-dur—poorly timed, I know, but I suppose people get a little desperate in wartime—so my mother had to leave the fighting when she got too far along. Gustav was killed less than a month later, along with most of his unit. It grieved her deeply that he’d never meet me, the child he’d made possible by saving my father. So they named me in his honor.”

They digested that in silence for a moment. Elladan, distracted by the tale, had quite forgotten to be wary of being touched; he didn’t even twitch when Gustav’s free hand began to mirror the motions of the other one, stroking down the muscles of his back.

“That’s Gustav,” said Elrohir at last, “but where does Sebastianion come in?” He was getting better at the pronunciation; it barely stuck on his tongue.

“Sebastian is my father’s epessë. I think it means _venerable_? Something like that. It was what the dwarves called him, some sort of inside joke, but after the war he began using it seriously. And neither of my parents _speak_ Khuzdul to work out the patronymic, so—” he shrugged and smiled faintly, “Sebastianion.”

“It would make a fine war-ballad,” Elladan mused, “if any bard could make a rhyme for _Sebastianion_.” He hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, but he felt even more of a rogue once it was out. “That is—I mean—”

But Gustav, startled, had already begun to laugh. “You can’t _stop_ yourself, can you?”

“He really can’t,” Elrohir answered for him, because Gustav’s mouth was already covering Elladan’s. Elladan was back to holding himself still, all his attention on the press of lips against his, trying to decide whether he wanted to allow it or not. He came down on the side of _allow_ , and Gustav was careful in a way that said he was aware of the struggle.

“Could we perhaps,” Elrohir said from his chair, watching them raptly, “adjourn to somewhere more comfortable? I think the bed can take three, so long as we’re all very friendly.”

Elladan pulled back, but not far, and grinned slowly. “What do you think, Sebastianion? Feeling more friendly now?” He slurred the consonants a little more than Elrohir had, but he still made a fair go of the name.

“Don’t think your penance is done,” Gustav replied, in the same teasing tone, and pushed himself off from the windowsill to stalk Elladan towards the bed. Elrohir came along behind, pressing himself up against Gustav’s back, kissing his neck until Gustav closed his eyes and tipped his head back against Elrohir’s shoulder with a soft hiss.

Elladan sprawled across the bed where he’d landed, too taken by the image in front of him to remember he needed to make room. He stroked himself distractedly, his eyes on Elrohir—Elrohir’s mouth, specifically, where it moved against Gustav’s skin. Elrohir caught him watching, meeting his gaze in an all-too-inviting way. Their eyes held; Elrohir, deliberately, tugged at Gustav’s hair to bare his throat and tongued a line up it.

Gustav’s groan drowned out the smaller, more helpless sound Elladan could not stop himself from making. Elladan shook himself, embarrassed, rolling to the side to make space on the bed. _How are you holding up?_ he asked, trying for nonchalance, though he could not look at Elrohir as he said it.

 _I don’t believe,_ Elrohir said smugly, pushing Gustav down into the space he’d made, kneeling above them, _that my usual difficulties will apply here._ Gustav rolled and pulled him down, and Elladan turned back to watch them kiss with frantic interest. Before he realized what he was doing, he stretched out a hand, laying it lightly in the curve above Elrohir’s tailbone. Elrohir fitted his body to Gustav’s, moving against him in a way that, incidentally, brought him arching up into Elladan’s touch in the least obvious way possible.

Gustav’s hands lifted to Elrohir’s hips, and Elladan snatched his back before they could accidentally brush. That had been foolishly incautious of him, no matter how much he’d wanted to do it. Gustav may have warmed to them a little, but it didn’t mean he needed to have the keys to all their secrets. Elladan resolved to keep himself in check, much though it pained him to do so. If he could only touch his brother once, he thought regretfully, he should have laid his hand a little lower.

 _Yes, you should have,_ Elrohir said, as Gustav cupped his ass and bucked up against him, and Elladan was a little flustered to realize he’d shared that thought without intending to.

Then, to his surprise, Gustav was reaching for him as well—and more to his surprise, he folded himself willingly into the outstretched arm, and did not balk when Gustav moved from Elrohir’s lips to his own. It was a heady, guilty pleasure, lying almost tucked in against his brother’s side as Gustav kissed him. It was not a convenient position from which to do anything with his hands, or at least not if he wanted to keep them off of Elrohir; he ended up awkwardly resting his palms against Gustav’s ribcage, trying not to let his skin brush Elrohir’s and thrilling when it did anyway.

There was a short interlude of that, but to be perfectly honest, none of them had the patience for a slow build at this point. Gustav rolled away from Elladan after a moment, dumping Elrohir onto the bed so they lay facing one another, then reached back to catch Elladan’s wrist and pull him flush against his back. There was no help for it; Elladan’s arm crossed over Elrohir’s, and then he was curving his hand over Elrohir’s back, using the grip to hold the three of them sandwiched close together. And if someone had to be between them, oh, this was exactly how he wanted it—tangled up and heated, Elladan’s hand on Elrohir’s hip and his cock nestled along the cleft of Gustav’s ass, Elrohir’s hand on Gustav’s back with his knuckles brushing Elladan’s chest, his tongue in Gustav’s mouth.

Elrohir made a sudden sound, arching forward under Elladan’s hand; Elladan propped himself up a little to see the reason. Gustav had taken them both in hand and was now jerking them in long slow pulls; Elrohir broke away gasping. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to—”

Gustav barked a short laugh, leaning in to hiss something against Elrohir’s ear, something that Elladan could not quite make out. Then his brother was tugging out of his hold and sitting up, reaching for a jar on the side-table. Salve of some sort—it hardly mattered what. It would serve its purpose. Elladan’s stomach swooped. This was really going to happen, then. Had Gustav been serious about having Elladan first—?

But no, his focus was on Elrohir for the moment. He took the salve, scooped some out as he beckoned Elrohir closer. “Put your leg over my hip.” And then, as a wry afterthought— “Assuming _you_ have no objections?” Elladan appreciated that he did not add _unlike your brother_ , even though it was implied.

“Not a one,” Elrohir said, blithe and breathless, arranging himself as requested. Of course, with Elladan still snug against Gustav’s back, his leg was partly over Elladan too. Elladan did not quite know what came over him then. He laid his hand on Elrohir’s ankle, then slid it slowly up his calf until his fingertips rested ever-so-lightly at the sensitive spot behind the knee, his thumb settling in the slight hollow beside Elrohir’s kneecap. Elrohir drew a breath, easy enough to blame on the fact that Gustav’s hand was now sliding between his legs, disappearing from Elladan’s immediate view—but Elladan liked to think that Elrohir’s skin burned where they touched just as much as his did.

He wished he had a better view of the current proceedings, but there was no way to inconspicuously improve his sightline. Elrohir would have been able to play it off as simple curiosity, probably, but he had no such skill; he was certain that his misdirected interest would be immediately apparent if he sat up to watch. Instead he set his attention on Gustav, licking and nipping lightly at his ear.

It was easy to tell when Gustav’s finger breached Elrohir, anyway. Elrohir made a soft, startled sound—not an unhappy one—and his calf muscles tensed and then relaxed again beneath Elladan’s palm. Elladan stroked the back of his knee, and while he probably had to share credit for Elrohir’s moan, the silent _yes_ that followed it was for him only.

Gustav had no gentle words to smooth the way, but he must have taken some care in what he did: Elrohir sighed and shifted under his touch, gasped occasionally, but did not tense again. Soon enough Gustav was not just easing him open any longer but thrusting his hand, the rhythm of it transmitted to Elladan by the motions of his arm, and Elrohir was moaning openly, his eyes screwed shut. Then— “Enough,” Gustav growled, drawing his hand back, “Turn over.”

Elladan released his brother’s leg quickly, before the contact came to Gustav’s attention. He might have thought himself forgotten, but while Elrohir shifted to lie facing away, Gustav twisted around to hand him the jar of salve. He must have seemed a little uncertain, because Gustav smirked faintly at him. “Don’t think I wouldn’t still like to see you humbled beneath me. But I would be a fool to waste the chance to be pinned between the two of you. I don’t imagine it’s an opportunity that comes along twice.”

“At—at the same time?” he managed, because up until now he was still half-expecting it to be one of them and then the other, however much Gustav may have softened from his initial threat.

Gustav looked at him a moment, then broke into a genuine laugh. It was a startlingly appealing sound, now that it lacked the nasty edge. “Yes, my sheltered valley child, at the same time. I thought you were an expert in bawdy ballads?” Despite the teasing words, his tone was kinder than it had been earlier, and he squeezed the hand that he’d pressed the jar into.

Elladan flushed, but managed to smile back sheepishly rather than scowl. “I simply hadn’t considered the...logistics of it.”

“I’ll make it easy for you,” Gustav answered, still amused, then turned his attention back to Elrohir. He adjusted Elrohir’s position somewhat, pressing a palm against his lower back until he arched backwards, then tugging his hips closer. Elladan watched unabashedly now. Gustav used a hand to guide himself, even as the other pulled Elrohir’s knees wider apart, then _pushed_.

Elrohir made a noise that sounded like pain, and Elladan started up before he was even aware he’d done it—but Elrohir was already reassuring him. _It’s all right. I’m all right._ Elladan had a brief flash of sensation from him, a kind of tingling burn; discomfort, not pain. Still, he was tense with concern, wishing he could touch Elrohir though there was no way to manage it without Gustav seeing. He only eased back down when Gustav rocked his hips again and Elrohir sighed in a way that was unmistakably pleasure.

“Good,” Gustav murmured, lips against the back of Elrohir’s neck, then turned his head to bring Elladan into his peripheral vision. “Now you.”

Elladan fumbled open the salve, but before he could coat his fingers, Gustav waved a hand dismissively. “Just your cock. I can take it, I assure you.” The comment was casual, but it stole the breath out of Elladan, his hands shaking as he slicked himself.

 _Hurry_ , Elrohir added, and suddenly he could hardly move fast enough.

“I expect you can figure this bit out without assistance?” Gustav teased as Elladan settled in against his back, hips already seeking. “Ah—easy, there, take your time.” He tried—all Valar, he tried, but it was difficult, with the pull of Elrohir’s desire calling him on and Gustav’s tight heat around him. Gustav had meant it when he said he could take it, though; he only paused a moment once Elladan was fully in him. “Good. The rhythm’s the tricky thing with three. Stay still a moment and let me move—you can pick up when you get a feel for it.”

Gustav began to thrust—only short, shallow movements between them, but they both groaned nonetheless. After a bit, Elladan moved with him, meeting him as he rocked back, and it was almost _unbearably_ good. Elrohir made quiet, throaty sounds of surprised pleasure, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening; Elladan tried to burn every one into his memory, even as he struggled to forget they were for Gustav and not for him.

He was surprised to find, though, that his own desire was split as well. Gustav was no warrior—slim where he and Elrohir were more thickly muscled, soft in very appealing ways. Elladan would never have confessed it aloud (or even, perhaps, admitted it to himself), but he might even have preferred the lovely curves of Gustav’s ass to the toned flatness of Elrohir’s. And now that they had cleared the hurdle of Elladan’s less-than-prudent remarks, Gustav’s commentary was something of a spur to desire in itself.

“Do us all a favor, Elladan, see if you can go a little deeper when you—” A breathy exclamation, then, “Yes, good, I—ah!—I see you found your stride. Thank the Valar you’re a quicker study in this than—” he broke off in breathless laughter when Elladan bit his ear in retaliation. “All right, all right! Keep that up and I won’t have another ill word to say.”

Elladan did, as best he was able. It was all a little much, bringing him to the edge long before he’d expected, but everything felt so good he hardly minded. His hips stuttered; Elrohir moaned sweetly at something Gustav had done, and that was the end for him.

“Already?” Gustav murmured, in playful disbelief. Elladan was flying too high to mind, and anyway he made up for it a moment later, craning back to kiss Elladan, slowing his thrusts for a moment as Elladan slipped out of him. “I’m teasing. Not bad, lordling.”

Elladan grinned, drunk on pleasure. When Gustav returned his attentions to Elrohir—who was, to be fair, rocking back against him rather demandingly—Elladan flopped over onto his back and closed his eyes, still smiling to himself.

~

Later, Elladan lay content and sated; though he had put a little distance between their bodies, reclaiming his personal space, he found he did not mind when Gustav stretched out a hand and ran the knuckles gently along his cheekbone. He was feeling an unexpected wave of warmth and gratitude towards Gustav, despite their rocky start.

“Well?” he said playfully, catching the hand and pressing it to his lips before releasing it. “How did you like my apology? Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, Sebastianion?”

Gustav’s smirk was slow and satisfied. “You almost managed the pronunciation that time.” He gave Elladan a long, lazy perusal and quirked an eyebrow. “If I say yes, will I lose the chance to negotiate an encore?”

Elladan laughed, startled and pleased. He could play this game. “You are a guest in our house. Now that we have settled _that_ thorny matter, it’s only proper that we see to your comfort and entertainment. Isn’t that right, Elrohir?”

Elrohir snorted, rolling to tuck himself in against Gustav’s side and trace idle fingers down his chest. “You’ll have to forgive Elladan,” he murmured, as if confiding a secret. “He learned all his seduction tactics from tavern ditties.”

Elladan, forgetting himself, leaned across Gustav to shove his brother; they tussled briefly over him as if he were no more than a bemused piece of furniture. Elrohir recalled himself first, clearing his throat and withdrawing with a sheepish grin. “Behave yourself, barbarian,” he said to Elladan.

Gustav was watching them with a strange light in his eyes. “No need to stop on my account.”

Elladan settled down again, this time on his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms to regard Gustav. “So, this encore.” He might not have been ready to go again just yet, but he was certainly ready to discuss it.

“Hmm. Yes.” Gustav still had that odd, hungry expression. Maybe, Elladan thought, that was what desire looked like on him when it wasn’t mixed with contempt. “I am quite comfortable, but if you wish to see to my _entertainment_...” His smirk was positively wicked now. “Just pretend as if I’m not here.”

Elladan blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. His eyes flicked briefly to Elrohir, to see if this was some innuendo too subtle for his apparently sheltered self, but his brother seemed as confused as he was. He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s too obscure for my ballad-based education, it seems. What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I say.” Gustav chuckled. “What do you do when there’s no one between you, I wonder?”

Elladan’s blood turned to ice, all the warm lassitude gone in an instant. Did he mean—was he implying—?

Elrohir took over smoothly, still seeming at ease. “I’m afraid that reality is far less exciting than you hope. I realize we’re a delightful double act, but allow me to remind you that we are,” he grinned at Gustav, “ _actually_ brothers. I’m told there’s a bit of a family resemblance, even.”

Gustav appreciated the joke, but his eyes were too keen. “Oh, go on, try another one. Sharing a lover is not exactly your run-of-the-mill fraternal bonding activity.” He tugged a lock of Elrohir’s hair gently, teasingly; Elladan could barely breathe as he watched. Did he not know how deadly serious his insinuations were? “Surely you don’t mean to tell me you’ve never—?”

His brother, too, seemed impervious to the gravity of the situation. Elladan could only pray he was bluffing. Elrohir rolled his eyes, but his tone was playful. “No, you deviant, never.” His mouth quirked up at the corners, his fingers spidering up Gustav’s chest. “When you share a bedroom growing up, you learn to tune out a lot of things. Which is, as it happens, a useful skill when you accidentally insult the handsome visitor you hoped to bed, and need a little extra enticement to bring to bear. Small hardship to have one another here, when the reward is...” he gestured broadly to Gustav and the situation at large, smiling.

Gustav wasn’t sold, but he clearly liked the flattery—and a little doubt had crept in, at least. “Hmm. That’s your story? And yet...I thought you might actually come after me for a moment, when I said I meant to fuck him first.”

Elrohir flushed slightly and dropped his eyes, making Elladan’s fear spike again, but he had things well under control. “You’ve caught on that he doesn’t like being touched, yes? I didn’t exactly _ask_ before dragging him into this, so you can see why I was concerned. I would have felt terrible if I’d put him in an awkward situation.” Elladan felt cold; that sounded an awful lot like truth. Elrohir’s mouth twitched into a smile again. “I should have had more faith, apparently, since the two of you seem to have worked it out to everyone’s satisfaction.”

Gustav wavered. Elladan, meanwhile, was grimly reviewing the night in his memory and feeling distinctly... _managed_. That was what Elrohir did, wasn’t it? He’d been managing Elladan’s longing all night with careful reassurances, just as he was managing Gustav’s suspicions now. That wasn’t the part Elladan minded, though.

What he minded was the sudden, choking terror that those reassurances _weren’t true._

That every bit of Elrohir’s pleasure had been Gustav’s doing alone.

“So you’re telling me,” Gustav said, oblivious to Elladan’s panic, “that being a breath away from your brother when you’re both _in flagrante_ is neither illicitly arousing, nor hideously awkward? I find it difficult to imagine that it would not be at least one of those things.”

Elrohir gave a single-shoulder shrug. “I told you. Boundaries are less sharply delineated when you grow up together as we did.” And then, with a laugh, “Sorry to disappoint. Would it satisfy your imagination if we kissed?” He sat up, beckoning to Elladan. “Come here.”

Elladan gave him a disbelieving look. Gustav was only just beginning to buy Elrohir’s explanation—surely this was exactly the wrong thing to demonstrate! Besides, he was feeling rather prickly and fragile at the moment.

 _Trust me_. Elrohir reached for him. Out loud, he said, “Eru, it won’t kill you. Come on, come here. ”

Elladan trusted his brother more than anyone, even when he was being managed. He came, however reluctantly.

Gustav sat up a little, propped on his elbows, watching them with anticipation. Elrohir seized Elladan’s chin, bringing their lips together before he’d even had time to process. He gave silent directions— _lift your chin a little. Tilt to the right. Lean in just a bit_ —that Elladan followed diligently, but somehow it was all wrong. They ended up bumping noses, clacking teeth; could not seem to get on the same page at all. Elladan was mortified. He might not have _extensive_ experience in the arts of romance, but he’d never thought himself that poor at this particular branch.

And...there was a part of him that had believed when they kissed again (and that was telling, _when_ rather than _if_ ), it would be electric. When it wasn’t high spirits from a fight, Elrohir jerking their mouths together and surprising them both, he’d thought it would be different. That things would just fall into place. His body flashed with heat thinking of _that_ kiss, the one he had imagined—and bitter disappointment too, that this one fell so short. His traitorous body reacted a little anyway, apparently recovered from earlier. He hoped that detail would escape Gustav’s notice.

“All right, all right, stop.” Gustav’s voice broke through. “I see your point. That was positively uncomfortable to watch.”

At least, Elladan thought regretfully, they were out of danger there. They separated, and Elrohir offered a chagrined smile. “Sorry. We tried.”

“So you did.” Gustav smiled back. “Well, it was only an idle fantasy. I can hardly object to having both of you focused on me.”

Elladan said nothing, making to return to his previous spot, where he might withdraw a little and nurse his disappointment. He forgot to be careful, though, and looked up just in time to catch Gustav noticing his half-hard state. He froze, searching for an explanation—he liked the idea of being watched, or, he’d been trying to imagine someone else in Elrohir’s place, or—

But Gustav didn’t say anything. His eyes flicked quickly to Elrohir—who was settling in again, oblivious—and then back. Something like understanding dawned across his face, and then _sympathy_. He sat up, drawing close to Elladan, reaching out without actually touching him. “May I?”

Elladan hesitated, then allowed it. What did it matter?

Gustav cupped his jaw and kissed him _precisely_ the way he’d wanted Elrohir to. And for the first time, he was a little glad that their guest saw too much. 

~

The hour was very, very late when they bade him goodnight.

The sons of Elrond went quietly along the corridors, side by side. When, after a few turnings, they had not seen another soul, Elrohir slipped his arm through Elladan’s and leaned on him a little. _That went very well indeed._

Elladan thought longingly of his bed, where he could plead exhaustion and say nothing. But here in the halls, he had to give some response. _You did manage things very neatly_.

Elrohir was pleased, turning his head to press a kiss to Elladan’s robed shoulder. _I did, didn’t I?_

 _Yes,_ said Elrohir, expressionlessly. _You always do_.

Elrohir shifted his hold, sliding his arm now around Elladan’s waist as they walked. _What did he say to you as we were leaving?_

Gustav had pulled him aside, just after Elrohir stepped out. “Should you ever find yourself in the Havens, I would be pleased to show you hospitality.” A faint smirk. “Though I cannot promise not to preface it with rude remarks about your parentage.”

Elladan had thought it a strange thing to say privately, but he smiled anyway. “We may well take you up on that.”

There had been something earnest in Gustav’s expression. “Your brother is welcome too, of course, but the invitation is for _you_.” He’d paused, then— “It might do you good. To leave him at home.”

Elladan had glanced towards the door, surprised and uncertain. “I don’t really…”

“Do as you will. I only wanted you to know it was on offer.”

Now, to Elrohir, Elladan said, _He still wants to make me beg on his next visit. I told him I’d try and think of some punishable offenses for him to catch me at._

Elrohir snorted, his footsteps slowing as they drew up to his door. _I didn’t know you were into being punished._

 _There are many things you don’t know about me_ , Elladan said wryly, as he disentangled himself to go on to his own door.

Elrohir gave him a curious look, surprised he was not coming in—they so rarely slept apart, these days—but did not press him. “Goodnight,” he said aloud, his tone lifting at the end like a question, but—

“Goodnight,” Elladan said, and turned away too soon to see the way his brother half-reached for him as he went.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is also June's fault. What isn't? :D


End file.
